Do you know that quivering feeling as if when you speed up the shutter speed of 24/25 fps footage? Everything going jerky like Saving Private Ryan war theater.

That’s how I define irrational jealousy.

Uncontrollable fear and insecurity.

Then you hit the shutter speed below 1/30 with ND 8 on a bright day light of those raging jealousy.

You control the flaring fear, you eclipse the insecurity vignette.

Smooth cotton sea at long exposure at 12 o’clock.

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Lucky bastard.

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Afterthought. Those feeling is also true when you’re zombified from sleep deprivation. Your senses assaulted by a manic Drill Sergeant out of nowhere.

Blaring horn at the side of the road like screaming banshee to you ears. Uneven light blinding you like psychedelic trip. You pushed your step from the hard asphalt road to the cold concrete to the warmth edge of your bed.

I have of late — but wherefore I know not — lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o’erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not me: no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so.